in Tennessee, in the forest of
Lewis County, named after him, I have stood by the monument that state
erected over the little-known and tragic grave of Captain Meriwether
Lewis--far enough from the grave of the poor Indian girl who worshiped
him more than she could her worthless husband.

"No one knows where Sacagawea was buried, though her history was traced
a little way after the return to this country. She was buried perhaps in
the air, on a scaffold, and left forgotten, as Indian women were, and we
no more can stand by her grave than we can be sure we stand on the exact
spot where Will Clark built his winter quarters among the Mandans.

"Great days, boys--yes, great days, and good people in them, too. So now
I want you to study a little here.

"Look back down the river, which has seemed so long for you. To-morrow
will be the Fourth of July. It was Christmas that Lewis and Clark
celebrated with their men in their stockade."

Their new friend had for the most part been silent as he listened to
this counselor of the party. He now spoke.

"Then I take it that you are going on up the river soon, sir?" said he.
"I wish you good journey through the cow country. You'll find the river
narrower, with fewer islands, so I hear; and I should think it became
swifter, but--I don't know."

"I was going to come to that," said Uncle Dick, turning to Rob, John,
and Jesse. "What do you think? I'd like you to get an idea of the river
and all it meant, but we have only the summer and early fall to use. I
don't doubt we could plug on up with the motors, and get a long way
above Great Falls, but about the time we got to where we could have some
fun fishing or maybe shooting, we'd have to start east by rail. So I'd
planned that we might make a big jump here."

"How do you mean, sir?" Rob asked.

"Change our transportation."

"Oh--because Lewis and Clark changed here?"

"Natural place for us to change, if we do at all," said Uncle Dick. "We
ought to stick as close to the river as we can, and as a matter of fact
we have covered the most monotonous part of it. But we had to do that,
for there was no other way to get here and still hang anywhere near to
the river. And until we got here we struck no westbound railroad that
would advance us on our journey.

"Here we could get up the Yellowstone by rail, but we are working on
the Missouri. If we run on by motor car up to Buford, there we can get
by rail over to the Great Falls, and st